


Fallout OC-tober

by AllGrey



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: (but like. so far removed from actual sex work. more like discussions of the idea of sex work), (not graphic by any stretch just like. they do happen), F/M, Gen, Ghoulification, Implied Kidnapping, Introspection, Pregnancy, References to Sex Work, all the male OCs are my friends haha, and a clinic, character who has the Sight, discussion of injuries and illness, discussions of parenthood, frustrations of growing up, i will say more friendship here than romance, not on screen but has happened to multiple characters, ridiculous courier, running an orphanage, tensions in and with the brotherhood, trauma influences the introspection a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllGrey/pseuds/AllGrey
Summary: I kept up with this privately, which gave me time to actually edit it lmao. But here is all the required prompt fills for fallout OC-tober. The main OCs dealt with here are Oakley (friend of the courier, nonbinary she/they), Caiside (SoSu lady she/her), Brick (Courier lady she/her), Alice (Lone Wanderer lady she/her), Diaz (SoSu lady she/her)
Relationships: Preston Garvey/Sole Survivor
Kudos: 1





	1. Survival Methods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is focused on a NV OC

Oakley looked at their captors arguing over a map, and sighed internally. The leader was rubbing his eyes, and the skinny one jabbed his finger into the map violently. They knew where this was going. And they Knew how it was gonna end if they didn't hold out on the misdirection for the next town or so. They needed to make sure Haseera didn’t lose the trail.

“Seer! Get over here!” screamed the leader. He was starting to get red in the face, frustration palpable in the air.

“Mhm?” Oakley said, pretending they didn’t know what he wanted, and that they’d been studying a dead leaf intently and not the map.

Rough hands grabbed them by the shoulders and pushed them towards the group with the map. “Pay attention!” snapped the man with the very big arms who shoved them.

Oakley pondered, idly, in what way Haseera would win a fist fight against this one. They trusted his arm enough to think he’d win, even if it wasn’t the Sight telling them. 

The fact that the Sight hadn’t told them made them worried. Meant that the day Haseera kicked these people’s asses wasn’t close enough.

“What do we do next? Take the highway or the side roads?” The leader pushed the map into their face, too close for them to really see.

But the Sight said the side roads were the best bet to get Haseera to them. He was behind. Caught up in something else. He’d call it bullshit, but Oakley would’ve poked him into helping. He had thought of them, and helped the people. Later he was gonna use the caps the person would give him in some way. And the side roads were slower. Had more rocks and walls they could scrawl notes on to keep Haseera on the right trail.

“I’m seeing…. Warning signs… everywhere…” They grasped their head like it hurt. It was better to really sell it with the religious types. “Not the highway!” They gasped, their eyes wide.

“Right. Side roads then. Like I said.” The leader glared at the skinny one. 

The skinny one threw his hands in the air and stopped off muttering. The leader turned to Oakley and put his hand on their head, ruffling their hair. “Alright,” he said, smiling proudly “Go rest, Seer. We got a while to go.”

Oakley held in their shiver, and went back to lay down. They tried to ignore the sliver of Knowledge that came through and told them yes. It would be a while before they were home.


	2. Favorite Leisure Activity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is focused on Caiside, SoSu

Caiside dusted off her hands, looking at the frame for the new house. It was gonna take a couple weeks before this one was done, but it would hold at least two families. And it was good work, doing something helpful. It felt nice to give a little relief to someone out there.

The sun was starting to set, bathing Sanctuary in a soft orange glow, and Caiside let out a breath. It was time to take a break. She headed to her little shack (far away from her old house) and pulled her beers from the fridge before heading up to the roof. Her little folding chair sat waiting, and she settled into it with a satisfied grunt.

She cracked open a beer and looked over the river. It sparkled in just the right way. It was funny, the world was so different from how it used to be, with all the grime on the outside instead of wrapped up. And yet, she could never relax like this in the old world. She never sat down and just took a breath, and saw the beauty of the world around her. It was always rushing from one place to another, and she never had a moment to just… be. Or to enjoy what she had.

Here, she had work that had an immediate effect on people’s life. She had friends that cared about her, and not just what she wore or what her job was and how much money she made. Preston, Starla and Abel would do anything to help her out, and they were all pretty dedicated to doing something good for the world. She didn’t feel stagnant here.

She felt guilty about that, for a second, thinking about Nate, but that was the truth. She wasn’t thriving when she was with him. His military service had always been more of a focus than any of her goals or ideals or desires, and that had stifled her. He hadn’t even meant to.

“Hey..” Abel said, poking his head over the edge of the roof. “Can I join you?” 

“Yeah. Have a drink.” She picked up an extra beer and dangled it towards him.

He climbed up, and sat down next to her on the roof. “You got a good view up here.”

“Yeah. I like relaxing here at sunset. It’s so peaceful.”

“Was it always like this?” Abel asked, taking a swig.

“I don’t know. Never paid attention. It’s good now.”

They were quiet then, just watching the world together.

Maybe “good now” is enough.


	3. Pre and Postgame Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Focused on Alice, the Lone Wanderer

At 16, Alice was assigned to her new job as the Vault’s Clinical Test Subject. Under her dad. She couldn’t even get away from him by going to work. Like, learning about medicine was great and everything, but she really wanted to be down in the reactor room, or working with Stanley or something. She loved putting things back together, knowing what made them tick. 

You could sort of do that with medicine, but like, it was the Vault. The worst thing she’d have to fix would be a tummy ache, or maybe Butch’s nose after she punched it in when he was being an asshole. That’s not exactly putting the theories to a lot of work.

And her dad was a real hardass. He had her reading manual after manual and textbook after textbook… She was quizzed constantly. Some of the books didn’t even have vault branding on them, which made her wonder what doctor must have snuck them in 200 years ago when the bombs had dropped. It was hard to get your hands on anything not strictly Vault approved, although not impossible.

At least her dad wasn’t the kind to go belly-up at the Overseer’s pressure on those kinds of things. There were people in the Vault who really would do anything the Overseer asked, and as much as she disagreed with Butch, she could get behind telling the Overseer to stuff it.

But the idea of telling the Overseer to stuff it didn’t make reading  _ Principles and Practices of Infectious Diseases _ and prepping herself for her dad’s test on it in the morning anymore fun.

She groaned and cradled her head. She could only remember so many disease names. And how accurate was any of this, anyways, the books were like centuries old. Literally no one was even writing new medical stuff. What were you gonna write about down in the dumb vault anyway?  _ Effects of a Radroach Bite _ ? Ugh, medicine was so annoying.

“Honey, you look like you need a break.” Dad said, poised as if he had been looking in her room for a while. “You haven’t even written anything down for a bit.”

“Look, I’m trying Dad, it just all seems so…” She threw her hands up. 

“Say no more. You wanna go listen to some old radio dramas on the holos?” He smiled, and wiggled a bowl in the air. “How about some ice cream?”

Alice perked up in spite of herself, and debated internally for a moment. She wanted to be upset with her dad. He was making her do all this extra shit that no one else even had to do! Everyone else was working already, not doing more studying.

But the ice cream…

“Alright.” She closed the book and hopped up.

The ice cream was delicious, and they settled on a comedy. It was a good night.

***

At 19, Alice was crouched down behind an old destroyed house, trying to secure a small little town in the middle of nowhere Capital, and bullets flew everywhere on every side of her. She wasn’t as good a shot as she was a mechanic or medic, but she could manage. A bullet bounced off the mailbox to her right, and she popped up to see the guy who fired it, still popped out of his cover. She fired as quickly as she could, hitting him in the chest, and he fell back with a yell.

“One down! How’re you doing, Charon?” she yelled to her left.

The big guy grunted an affirmative and Alice went back to focusing on the enemies across the way.  _ Pop, Pop _ , then look over and fire back. She went on autopilot, in the zone of the battle. Until she heard a strangled shout from Charon’s direction.

She looked over at Charon as he slammed a hand into his shoulder. “Charon!” she shouted and moved to go care for him.

“Stay put! There’s one more!” Charon shouted, gesturing at the hole in the wall between them. Large enough for her to be seen if she went running. His grip tightened on his gun and he pointed at himself, then up.

Alice debated for a millisecond and decided to holster her gun and grab for her medkit. Charon nodded his head, took a deep breath, and popped above his cover. A bullet whizzed past his head, burying itself in the broken down house behind them. He didn’t flinch, and fired twice. It was silent. 

He slumped down, leaning against the ruined wall, and Alice bolted towards him. She quickly removed his ruined shoulder pad and threw it aside, pulling out scissors to start cutting at his undershirt until she could get a good look at the wound. The bullet had thankfully passed straight through, so she wouldn’t need to worry about getting him on a surgical table any time soon.

She couldn’t help but (for the millionth time) long for a medical textbook that detailed ghouls specifically. She knew how to check, clean, and stitch a bullet wound of course, but there was so much changed in the anatomy that she always worried about her ability to treat Charon properly. 

It took a few minutes to get him properly stimmed and stitched, and when it was done she sat and double checked her work.

“You don’t have to look at it so much.” Charon grumped.

“I just want to make sure-”

“Don’t worry about it. You took care of it. Everything you take care of heals back better than it was before.” There was a slight smirk to his voice, and she looked at him in shock.

Charon hardly ever joked. It’d probably be a shame to be serious in the face of it. She gave a small snort, and shook her head at him. 

“Fine. If you say so.” She stood up and reached to give him a hand up (as silly as it was for her in all of her 4’9” glory to “help up” a man who was, like, 6’3”).

He humored her and grabbed her hand as he stood. “Heading to check the town?”

“Yeah. ‘Bout time for Randy’s next bottle.” She remarked, checking her Pip-Boy’s time. “Hope Butch isn’t overwhelmed, but I doubt it.”

Charon graced her with a snort.

***

At age 29, Alice sat at her desk in her office, surrounded by all the medical journals and textbooks she had gotten her hands on in the last 10 years. Some were splayed across the floor, where she’d abandoned them.

When she’d begun ghoulifying, she had picked up as much as she could find, old books on radiation, and newer doctors notes on the process, on how to limit extremity loss, on the scarring, on how to delay becoming feral.

None of that was very useful at the moment. It had given her a slightly better understanding of her and her ghoul patients bodies, of course, but that wasn’t what she needed.

She needed to understand why a little boy would have a consistent fever, a slight cough, and blue boils for multiple months straight. They’d put Duncan on IV fluids, they regularly gave him medicine to lower the fever, and had tried a couple dozen different antibiotic regimens. Nothing had succeeded. If Alice had a single hair left to pull out, she would have ages ago.

What the hell was wrong with Duncan? What the hell was this thing? She was starting to consider looking into fungal causes, although all the data she had on fungus was a couple centuries out of date and didn’t take into account the apocalypse’s affect on them.

She was exhausted. MacCready was relying on her. And she had so many other kids to keep track of at the orphanage, and every once in a while she’d have a random waster come in, needing medical care.

If she had known, when she was a dumb kid complaining about textbooks, how hard it would be to actually BE a doctor and a parent, she would have relished in those quizzes and notes.

A knock at her door drew her out of her pity party. Bryan stood, tilting his head “Can I interrupt?”

“Course, kid.” She sat up, stretching a little to get rid of the knots in her back.

“You know, when I was little, I thought that calling me that made sense. Now that I’m the age you were when you took me in, it’s just ridiculous.” He laughed at her.

“Yeah, but like. I knew you when you were an infant.” She waved her hand in the air.

“I was eight.”

“See? Infant.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted. “Whatever, I came over because Duncan asked for you. Said he wants holo-time.”

She pushed away from her desk and walked up to Bryan. “If the boy wants holo-time, he gets holo-time. We have the ice cream, right?” 

“Already got it all ready for you.” Bryan said, turning from the door and starting down the hallway.

“Thanks, kid. You gonna come hang with us this time?” Alice said, raising a non-existent eyebrow.

Bryan blushed and started rubbing his neck. “Uh, I was actually thinking I might go down into town and hang out with Jerry tonight.”

“Cool, cool.” She said, smiling. Jerry was a fine kid. 

“Don’t look like that about it.” Bryan said, all agitated.

“I’m not looking like anything! Anyway, here’s Duncan’s room. I’m gonna have to go sanitize, and you’re gonna have to go on your date. Have a good time!” She hurried into the first room, shouting over her shoulder.

“It’s not a date!” Bryan protested as she closed the door behind her.

She was happy for him, though. It was good to have one of the kids thriving like that. 

That kept her spirits up as she went through the whole cleaning and masking up process.

Duncan sat on his bed, looking impossibly small and so sick. The poor kid waved excitedly when he saw her, and then stopped to cough.

“Hey little guy!” She said. “It’s holo-time, right?”

He nodded excitedly.

“Silver Shroud!”

“Ooo, a hero night!” She popped into the small fridge kept next to Duncan’s bed, and grabbed the mutfruit flavored ice cream Bryan had left in for them.

“Yeah! He’s so cool!” Duncan bounced a bit.

That was looking better than yesterday.

“Okay! Here’s your bowl!” She handed the bowl and spoon to the boy and then reached into her holotape collection on the table next to his bed, plopping down into a chair.

“Any specific one?”

Duncan shook his head, digging into the bowl with gusto.

“Okay… let’s go with this one!” She’d only labelled it  _ Silver Shroud and The Mistress of Mystery #2 _ .

As the narrator started up the story, she ate alongside Duncan, and thought about her dad. His quiet laugh, his scruffy beard, when he had taught her what fabrics wouldn’t tear her hair up at night. How sad she had been when he left her. How much worse it had been to watch him die. And the feeling of waking up, after entering the same radioactive coffin as him. Of being a ghoul, while he had just… gone. 

And she thought that even with that pain, she wouldn’t trade herself for him. The kids needed her, her friends needed her, and the wasteland needed her skills. And when she settled on that feeling, with a spoon of ice cream in her mouth, and Duncan cheering as the Silver Shroud punched a bad guy right on the lip, she knew her dad would be proud.


	4. Grudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is focused on Brick, Courier

Brick considered the door proudly. It had taken a while to convince Arcade to help her with the set up, but she tactfully reminded him of what Cass had said about the Followers last time she got drunk. He came around real quick after that.

Was it complex? No. Did she need help coming up with what to do? Yes. 

Arcade’s idea was masterful. And she was ready to see it. She pulled up a chair, pulled up her bottles of Nuka Cola, and settled in.

“You’re way too excited about this.” Arcade said dryly.

“I’m gonna get my revenge.” Brick said with relish, popping open a bottle.

“What did she even do to you?” Arcade asked.

“Bet it’s dumb.” Boone said from the table, where he was digging into some mac and cheese.

“It’s not! It’s serious!” Brick slapped a leg in emphasis and pouted when it stung a little.

“Isn’t this cuz she drank your stupid Nuka Cola?” Raul wasn’t even looking up as he messed around with the radio he had spread out on the counter.

“It was a Nuka Cola Dark, Raul. Those are rare this far west! You can rarely find them.” Brick insisted.

Arcade slumped his head into his hands.

“Sure, boss. Your rare Nuka Cola is important.” Raul said, in his customary sarcastic tone.

Brick glared at the back of his head for a bit, before she heard the elevator ding.

Cass had returned, with Veronica and Christine. Her plan was coming together, and she almost bounced in excitement.

“I’m gonna hit the fridge for some drinks before we settle down.” Cass said.

“Like you need more!” joked Veronica.

“We’ll be in the living room.” Christine said, dragging her girlfriend by the arm into the back.

“I’ll drink as much as I want!” Cass yelled back over her shoulder, her head turned away as she walked smack into the tape covering every inch of the doorway.

She flailed for a moment at the sudden resistance, breaking the tapes hold on the door, and stumbled forward further, yelling out.

Right into the tripwire below, which made the (classic!) bucket of water above her head start to fall.

Brick was already roaring out a laugh as she fell forward, and that laugh turned extremely high pitched when Cass screamed as she was drenched head to toe in water.

“What-?” Veronica said, her head poking out to see Cass, flat on her face and soaked through, with a Brick standing triumphant above.

“Yes! That’s what you get! Keep your hands off my Nuka Cola!” Brick said, gesturing wildly to the heavens.

“You fucking sack of-” Cass said, attempting to stand, and failing miserably.

“Ha!” Brick said, pointing at Cass. “It’s what you deserve.”

“I am gonna kick your ass!” Cass yelled, actually starting to push herself up a bit.

“I’d like to see you catch me!” Brick yelled, picking up her case of Nuka Cola and booking it to the elevator, giggling the whole way.

Arcade turned from Cass, as she pulled herself up and ran after Brick in a drunken rage, and towards the guys in the kitchen with him.

“You wouldn’t think Brick knew how to hold a grudge. When did Cass drink that again?” 

Boone shrugged. “2 months ago?”

“Course boss can hold a grudge.” Said Raul, still hunched over his work.

“Then why is Benny alive?” Arcade asked.

“Have to imagine he’s just that good in bed.” Raul said.

“Ew, never mind, I don’t want to hear your thoughts.” Arcade scrunched up his face like he’d eaten something sour.

“Why not? I’m a mine of wisdom here.” Raul said, with a definite smirk.

Arcade shook his head violently and said “I don’t want to think about it.”

“You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t tell Cass you helped.” Boone said, matter-of-fact.

Suddenly Arcade remembered he needed to be in Freeside at the clinic for something very important, right that minute. “Right. I’m headed to the clinic.”

He ignored Raul’s snort as he left.


	5. Life Swap/Faction Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oakley Swapping lives with Alice

Fawkes grunted and automatically Paladin Cross and Oakley moved to each side of the door. Beyond that door was the end of this, Oakley Knew.

With a grunt of effort, Fawkes kicked the door in. There was a shout of surprise inside of the room, and Fawkes began tearing into a soldier. Paladin cross flipped around and levelled her gun directly at, Oakley Knew, Colonel Autumn.

“Hold it, Cross.” Oakley said, walking in in front of their friend.

“What? Oakl-” The Paladin started, but Oakley shook their head.

“Autumn.” They said, evenly, looking the man who killed their father in the eye.

“You again. I can’t say I’m surprised. You and your ilk seem hellbent on trying to ruin everything our government is trying to achieve!” Autumn said, waving his gun wildly.

They took a deep breath, looked him in the eye, and said, “I’m gonna kill you. And then I’m gonna step into that chamber there and clean the water for everyone in the Capital. When I’m done, everything your government has stood for will be ash, everyone you hate will be saved, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“Prove it.” Autumn said, moving his gun in their direction again, and Star Paladin Cross shouldered (as gently as she could, given the power armor) Oakley out of the way and began firing.

Autumn got hit in the shoulder, and then dived behind a pillar, yelling. The remaining Enclave soldier turned his gun on Fawkes, which was too late for him. Fawkes tore it out of his hands as he punched the poor guy in the face, shattering every bone in it.

Oakley stayed behind Cross as they pulled a frag out of their pockets. They paused for a moment, Seeing Autumn’s movements before they happened. He would duck and try to run under the walkways to escape the gunfire.

They pulled the pin out and tossed it just as he made the turn, trying to cover his retreat by shooting wildly in the Paladin’s direction.

When the grenade went off, he was standing directly over it.

“Good toss, kid.” Said the Paladin, unnerved.

“The man who has killed your father is dead. Your part in this is done, child.” Fawkes said, his large hand falling onto their shoulder, only getting a bit of blood on their jacket. “I will go in and hit the buttons, just tell me the code.”

“No.” Oakley said, turning towards the walkway, attempting to be careful of the side that was just made a bit weaker by her grenade.

“What?” Fawkes said, flabbergasted.

“You can’t go in there, kid. Fawkes doesn’t have to worry about the radiation. If you go in there you’ll die!” Cross said, stomping up after them.

“I won’t. And I’ll need this.” They said, continuing up the ramp without looking back at their friends.

“You’ll- You’ll need the radiation?” Cross asked incredulously.

“I’ll need what comes with it.” They said, looking down at their hand as they prepped the door. They for a moment wondered if they’d miss having the skin look whole. But, in the end, it was a fair trade off, they supposed.

“Just hold out. The radiation will clear soon enough, and you’ll take me back to the Citadel. Don’t forget to grab Sarah.” They typed in what was needed and then paused, turning back to their friends.

“Don’t worry, guys. We’ll at least have similar life spans when I’m done!” They said, cheerily.

“I hate when they get like this.” Cross muttered under her breath, annoyed.

Fawkes simply watched, an inscrutable expression on his face as Oakley walked into the chamber.

It would be a new life for them, and a new one for the Capital.


	6. Special Item/Memory/Location

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Focused on Caiside

Caiside rarely entered the building, these days. She’d told Preston to let someone else take it, back when they first started working on Sanctuary. She could barely look at the building without feeling that yawning maw open up, reminding her of all she had lost.

But Preston hadn’t let anyone move into her old home. She thought maybe Codsworth talked him into it. He’d been disappointed when she had wanted to live somewhere else. She could understand that. He  _ had _ protected the house for 2 centuries, waiting for her descendents. 

But she just couldn’t stay. She was in a new world, now, and if she had stayed in her old home, she didn’t think she’d have accepted that. It was too full of memory. She didn’t want to become weighted down with the past. She didn’t think she would leave if she got stuck like that.

So she avoided it. And everyone avoided it. And at the center of Sanctuary there sat a dark, gaping hole. No matter how much of the rest of town got built up and filled with folks, it sat empty. Until it’s emptiness in itself was expected by the people around her, and everyone gave it a wide berth.

Caiside planned on visiting Starla, down in Covenant, and had told Preston she’d meet him at the bridge after she grabbed some extra supplies from the doctor. That left her right next door to the old house, which she ignored as usual, until she heard the two kids playing in the waiting room.

They were whispering about the haunted house next door.

The doctor came out with her extra radaway and stims, and wished her luck. She nodded and left, but in all honesty, she barely heard him. She could only think of the house, as she turned out of his door.

So she went in it, for only the second time since she had left the ice.

It was empty, tattered, smelled of mold, and covered in dead leaves. After she had set up her new little home down the hill, Codsworth had tsked and tutted, but he had moved.

It looked like a ruin. She remembered when Nate had told her they’d gotten the house. How big he’d beamed.

She never really cared for suburban life, back when that was really a thing. Did she miss it now? Or did she miss Nate? Did she miss her son? 

Or did she just miss the ignorance she’d had? That feeling of perpetual safety, that was clearly misplaced, but that had never truly been shook before the bombs fell?

She sat down with a poof on the dust covered, probably bug-filled armchair and looked over the rusted hunk.

She didn’t miss the house, that was for sure. It was fine, but it was Nate’s dream. She didn’t miss the drive to perform as a wife and a mother, and at work, with all the eyes of the neighborhood and Nate’s family on her. While her own family had been left so far away, practically across the country. 

Oh sure, they’d only been in Tennessee, but multiple states away? With her and Nate’s schedules? She hadn’t been able to see them for years, and that was before the bombs dropped.

She wondered what happened to them. How terrified they must have been. Tennessee probably wasn’t as flattened as Boston was. She knew, when she’d heard about the Glowing Sea, exactly what had to have happened to Nate’s family. They probably didn’t even have time to notice.

But her family. Did they live? Did they make it? For how long? Did her brother and sister have descendents out there?

She scrubbed a hand down her face at the thought. She shouldn’t waste time thinking about them, when she didn’t even have an idea of what happened to her son. And Preston was waiting for her at the bridge. 

This is exactly what she’d thought would happen if she went in here. Those kids were right. The house was haunted. But it was ghosts only she could see and worry about far, far too late.

She shook her head. There were people here, now. Her friends needed her present. And Starla said she finally had news about help in Diamond City. She needed to focus on her life, not on the old world.

What did Sturges call it? Old world blues? She couldn’t have that anymore. She’d made her decision.

She walked down to the bridge, and Preston was standing there waiting.

“Hey Ca-” He started, and his smile immediately dropped.

“Preston. We have to fill my house.” She said, trying not to cry.

“Your house? What do you- Oh. The old one.” He bit his lip in concern and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It can’t sit empty. It’s a waste of good space. And I can’t see it like that. I’d rather someone else have it than it be-” Her throat felt tight. “I don’t want it to be empty. I can’t be there, but it can’t just be like this.”

Preston looked at her for a moment, before she looked away. She really didn’t want to start the trip off crying. 

“Alright.” He said. “I’ll talk to Sturges about it after we get back?”

She nodded, still looking firmly at the bridge rails.

“So… do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head and frowned.

“Do you want to talk about what Starla found?” He tried, valiantly.

Caiside took a deep breath, then released it. “Yeah.”

“She said she has an update on the detective in Diamond City she was trying to get a hold of.” Preston said, starting to walk forward.

“Yeah? Is he willing to help?” She asked, following along.

“Yeah, but he wants you to come to him if you can. He’s got a lot of these cases, and he needs to know what’s going on in person.”

“I thought the whole reason you didn’t want me to go down there in the first place was because it’s a dangerous trip.” Caiside said, brow furrowed.

“Yeah… well… We finally got news! And Starla said she’d come along. And Abel.” Preston turned his face away, embarrassed for a second before rallying. “And your aim’s gotten better.”

Caiside tried a smile. “Big family outing, huh?”

“We’ll get you there safe. I swear.” Preston said, serious.

“I trust you guys to.” She said, linking an arm around Preston.

He smiled, and they walked on. She’d be getting her son back soon.


	7. Buried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Focused on Brick

She didn’t know what was going on. Her head hurt, more than it ever had in her life. She tried to yell out but all that came out was a small squeak. She tried to reach out her hands but her hands moved strangely, knocking against something. Little bits of whatever she touched started to fall on her.

She wanted to panic then, but her brain felt like molasses. The feelings were locked away, and they were only coming towards her slowly. She needed to move, so she tried to kick her legs. Nothing happened.

Where was she? What was going on?

She took a breath in and instinctively coughed, but it didn’t help. Something was in her lungs. Something was falling in her mouth. The coughing made her headache ratchet higher.

There was a noise, a scrapping one, but she could barely hear it over the ringing that dominated everything. She tried to move her arms again, and managed to flail them pointlessly in the air. Something was wrong. She couldn’t take them apart. 

Was she dying?

She kept coughing, but it wasn’t helping. What was happening? Where was she?

Something moved away from her face, with that scraping sound accompanying it. She tried to breathe again, and managed to actually get air. Someone was whistling, she thought, but it was hard to tell because everything sounded muffled under the ringing noise.

Her head hurt so bad she wanted to scream.

There was a noise like something big had dropped, and she felt the ground move under her head. She was on the ground. Was this dirt?

“Well, howdy there, partner! Let’s get you out of there!” A thickly accented voice said, and Brick tried to focus her eyes. She saw above her a shining face, metal arms, and a cowboy hat.

She tried to move but just ended up flailing again. She tried to call for help, but didn’t understand what came out of her mouth. It didn’t sound right. The syllable seemed stretched out.

She felt the arms grab her, and tried to scramble away, kicking and wiggling, but the movement made her head worse, somehow. Like someone was digging a knife into her skull. She managed a scream, strangled and pained, and then blacked out entirely.

She remembered nothing of the next few days, until she woke up on a bed in a dingy little house, with an old man leaning over her.

When he told her she was shot in the head and then buried alive, she didn't believe him. Who could survive that shit? When she was able to walk again without stumbling, she took herself to the graveyard .

And there definitely is something about looking at your own grave to put your life in perspective.


	8. Faint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is focused on Diaz, a SoSu

Diaz woke up in her bed, all of her limbs heavy with sleep. Preston lied in bed next to her, his face squished into his pillow. The sun was just starting to filter in through the windows. She wanted to lay there forever.

But she suddenly had to pee. Extremely badly.

She huffed out an annoyed breath and started lugging herself out of bed, only to be hit by a sudden wave of nausea.

Oh my god, she was gonna vomit.

She stumbled into the hallway and threw herself into the bathroom just in time, vomiting into the sink.

It was disgusting, but at least it was easier to clean than the floor.

As she recovered, head pressed against the counter, she tried to put together how she felt last night. Tired, but that wasn’t unusual. There was always more work to do as the General. She didn’t think she was sick.

Her bladder protested again, and she sighed, straightening up to try to get over to the toilet, when she was hit with a wave of dizziness. Oh, shit.

She sat down as quickly as possible, and then blacked out.

When she came to again, she was crumpled against the wall and felt all weak. She hadn’t peed herself, against all odds, though, so she heaved her shaky ass over to the toilet and tried to deal with whatever this was.

When she was done, she flushed the sink out a bit, washed her hands, and headed straight back to bed. She needed comfort now.

Preston was still sound asleep, luckily, because she wanted cuddles.

She got under the covers, snuggled up to her boyfriend and closed her eyes, getting ready to drift. And that’s exactly when realization hit her, along with about a gallon of adrenaline.

These are the same exact symptoms she had at the start of her first pregnancy. Almost a year ago now. Or 200. Did it count as 200 if her body was frozen the entire-?

Not the point! Not the point! She was pregnant.

“ _ Fuck _ .” She whispered, with feeling.

They had been safe, she thought. The condoms had said they were preserved on the box!

But maybe “preserved Vault-Tec” condoms were a bad idea.

Fuck.

She took a deep breath. And another. And a third. Was this deep breathing or was it hyperventilating?

She reached over and gently smacked at Preston. He sat up instantly and was on guard.

“What? What’s happening?”

He barely took a second to see her expression before he was pulling her close and holding her.

“Are you okay? What’s happening?” He said cradling her head with one hand.

She clinged back, and was quiet except for her shaking.

Well, even if the world had ended and her husband had died and her son was missing, and every day was a struggle to not be shot or irradiated, and now she was  _ pregnant _ , at least she had this. At least she had Preston. He cared, and she wasn’t alone.

She had more support from him than she’d had from Nate.

Preston hummed at her and rubbed her back soothingly until she’d stopped shaking. When she didn’t seem like she was gonna fall apart he looked over his shoulder, out their windows.

“Early enough to get started on the day, unless you wanna sleep in.” He said, trying to ask a question without asking.

“Get started?” She said, unsure about her answer.

Preston looked at her for a moment, searching for something. Then he tilted his head. “Coffee?”

She nodded.

He got out of the bed (not before throwing one of their blankets over her shoulders) and headed out to the kitchen. She sat quietly, thinking about what she could say.

There were so many things that could go wrong. Shaun was still gone, trapped in the Institute, and he’d never even known her. The Railroad was still building the machine. Who’s to say if she’d even survive long enough in there to worry about this?

Who’s to say she wasn’t just sick?

When Preston came back in with the mugs, she decided she couldn’t wait. Preston was too good. He didn’t deserve to wait while she thought all this through on her own. And frankly, he’d probably help her figure it out.

She took a deep breath, turned towards him, and rallied herself.

“I need a pregnancy test.”-p-09


	9. Favorite Quest/Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Focused on Brick.

“Well… I need some specific clients for some customers who have pretty specific  _ interests _ .”

Brick smirked, because of course getting caps this way would have to go weird places. “Like?”

“Well, we have someone looking for a... “ He rustled out a list from a pocket. “A smooth talker, a sex robot, and a ghoul cowboy.”

“A ghoul cowboy?!” She exclaimed, feeling the joy in her well up.

“Yeah, yeah, they want a male ghoul cowboy. They want to be dominated.”

“A man!” She felt like squealing. This was gonna be the funniest conversation she was ever gonna have.

“...Yeah… You got something in mind?” James Garret said, a worried look on his face.

“I sure do!” She said, popping open her pipboy to write some notes. “Kay, a sexbot and a smooth talker are the other two right?”

“Yeah. And the sexbot is important! Uh, the client has some serious money. I heard there might be some robots over at the old empty robco center in Freeside. Here’s the program to get it to behave correctly. ” He sounded oddly insistent.

Brick grabbed the holo. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll check it out.”

She had to get to her nearest ghoul cowboy as soon as physically possible. She left the Atomic Wrangler in a hurry, ignoring James’ expression and his worry about the bot.

When she burst into the living room at the Lucky 21, Raul was sitting on the couch relaxing, and Veronica and Boone were playing some kind of board game. Veronica had clearly complained him into playing it. They all looked up at her sudden interest.

“Raul!” She shouted, pointing at him.

“...Yeah, Boss?” The old man said hesitantly.

“James Garrett needs you to work at his place! He’s looking for a ghoul cowboy.”

Raul squinted. “The… asshole at the Atomic Wrangler wants a ghoul cowboy? For what?”

“To be domineering to clients! And have sex.” She said, excitedly. “You are perfectly, exactly, someone’s kink.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Boss, have I ever, for a single moment, seemed domineering to you.” Raul said, leaning forward, hands on knees and shaking his head.

“You…” Brick paused. He called her boss within minutes of meeting her, and Tabitha had essentially bullied him into working for her with very little work.

Brick deflated.

“Why were you so excited about this?” Veronica said, holding one of her board game pieces and tilting her head.

“What are the odds?! Someone wanted something so specific, and I know someone who meets every one of their standards.” She said, pouting.

“I am not doing it, Boss” Raul said, leaning back, picking his sombrero up from next to him, and covering his face.

Brick sighed. “Where else am I gonna find a ghoul cowboy?”

“Have you tried literally any ranch within 30 miles?” said a voice behind her.

She turned and saw Arcade walking in from the elevator. He looked exhausted from his time at the Old Mormon Fort.

“Get chewed out by Julie Farkas again?” Brick asked.

“She’s got a real kill-’em-with-kindness routine that’ll drain the life out of you. What are you whining about? Can’t get Raul to do something?” Arcade asked, walking into the room.

“She wants Raul to work for James Garrett.” Veronica said, turning back to the board. Boone looked annoyed. Or not. It was hard to tell.

“You’re working with James Garrett?” Arcade asked, disdain dripping from his voice.

“No!” Brick said “Well, yes… but not like that. He wants to get more sex workers in. It’d be a good way to get more people jobs in Freeside.”

Arcade frowned. “So you asked noted Freeside resident Raul Tejada first?”

Brick paused, thinking. “...Huh.”

Arcade sighed. “Who are you looking for?”

“A ghoul cowboy to dominate a client, a sexbot, and a smooth talker.”

“A sexbot?” Arcade and Veronica asked in unison. 

“Yeah, there might be one we can use at the old RobCo place. I’m not worried.”

Arcade squinted at her.

“What?” she whined.

“You thought Raul was going to dom anyone?” He asked.

She saw Raul throw his hands up in the air out of the corner of her eye. She pouted.

Veronica gasped.

“The lady at the Fort!” She said, slamming her hands down on the table.

“There’s a fort in this game?” Boone asked, looking around the board.

“No, no. There’s a ghoul cowgirl at the Old Mormon Fort and if you talk to her for like five seconds she starts talking about BDSM.” Veronica said, turning back to Brick.

“Beatrix?” Arcade asked.

“Oh, her!” Brick said. “But, uh, she’s not a guy. I think?”

“No, she’s a woman.” Arcade said.

“Come on, Garrett’s asking for a lot of bullshit here, he can throw you a bone.” Veronica said.

“Do you think  _ she’d _ agree, Arcade?” Brick asked.

“Hm… Yes. I have to say yes. Veronica’s right, she talks BDSM if you give her even a second to get it in.”

Brick opened her pipboy and typed in Beatrix’s name, but paused.

“I gotta say, I’m a lot less excited that I can’t just instantly bring in the perfect option.” She pouted.

“Well, Boss, old men like me aren’t very good for domming. Take too many naps.” Raul said, muffled by his hat.

“...How old were you when you were ghoulified, Raul?” Arcade asked.

“21.”

“You’re not even old!” Brick accused.

“200 isn’t old to you? Guess I’ll get back to you when I hit 400. See what you think then.” Raul returned.

“Hmph. I’m gonna see what I can do with Beatrix. And the sexbot.” Brick said, turning to leave.

“There’s a sexbot at RobCo? Always knew House was a little weird.” Raul said.

“Nah, I’m supposed to program it.” Brick said.

Raul lifted his hat off his head. “....You’re gonna try to program it?”

“Yeah! Can’t be too hard. I have this holotape.”

Raul sighed as if he was presented with a heavy choice. “I’ll come with. Should at least make sure your sex robot doesn’t murder someone in bed.”

He heaved himself off the couch and walked over with a clearly dejected gait. His nap time had been stolen.

“Yay! I like having you along Raul.” Brick said, brightening.

“Of course you do, Boss, it’s my sparkling personality.” Raul said.

Brick and Raul wandered to the elevator, chattering the whole way.

“So she’s gonna walk in there with Raul on one side, and be like ‘No, not this ghoul cowboy. This ghoul cowgirl. Take her instead.’” Veronica said.

Boone huffed. “Garrett shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. How many ghoul cowpeople exist out there?”

“Tons! What is with you people? This is Nevada!” Arcade said, throwing his hands in the air.


	10. Double

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Focused on Alice.  
> I uh, really let this one get away from the prompt.

Alice was knee deep in a ruin again, for the first time in a few years. Butch was even with her. It’d been a couple years since he’d visited for more than a drink. And this was pretty serious work.

When the Brotherhood was still being somewhat reasonable, they would bring her supplies. Lyons knew he wouldn’t’ve made it anywhere without her, and he also knew she was doing good in the Capital with her little orphanage and clinic.

After Lyons died, and Sarah was killed, the succession battle meant no supplies. Charon had handled some of it himself, and they’d relied on others passing kindness for the last few years. The Brotherhood had gotten more and more isolated, and no one she talked to knew what was going on in there. But things had only gotten worse, as a whole civil war broke out in The Brotherhood.

She had had a few random wasters come in with injuries and looking for food who spoke about what the fights were like to see from a distance. It wasn’t pretty.

It was when she got her third ghoul in with injuries from Brotherhood soldiers that she decided she needed to reach out, see what’s happening.

Of course, Butch called that the “dumbest idea of her dumb ideas”. 

“Have you taken a look at your skin lately? They weren’t all that friendly when they weren’t at war!” He had said.

In the end, she had decided to do it anyway, but told Butch to come with if he was upset. 

So Butch and her were waiting in the shell of an old building, for one of her old Brotherhood friends to come meet them. She was taking the time to double check a filing cabinet for anything useful, while Butch scuffed his shoes in the corner.

“So what made you come back around to the clinic, Butch?” She said, keeping her face in the filing cabinet. Sometimes if Butch saw her expressions, he would automaetically get defensive.

“Missed having your ugly face around.” He said, clearly deflecting. 

She looked at him directly, and did something that would have raised an eyebrow if she still had them.

“Alright! Shut up! I was worried, okay? I know you’re off doing all this goody-two-shoes shit, but the Brotherhood is clearly shaking up. And they know exactly where you do your work. And they hate people like you. But here you are, sticking your head in the ant nest!” He yelled, throwing his hands up.

“No yelling.” She said, gesturing to their surroundings.

He growled but didn’t say anything, turning away from her.

She sighed, and walked up to him. “Once a Tunnel Snake, always a Tunnel Snake, right? You’re just looking out for your gang.”

“Exactly!” He said, in a way that made it absolutely clear he was pouting.

“I know the Brotherhood is a mess. I’ve always known. But there wasn’t anyone else who could find my dad, and then there wasn’t anyone else who could help me fight the Enclave and fix the water. And then I needed help with supplying the orphanage, and they offered.” She explained, calmly.

“They clearly ain’t helping anymore! I come up all the way from Rivet City and you’re patching up Charon because he’s going out hunting for you! Why are we here?”

“I need to know how serious this is. I need to know if I can ever trust them again. And I wanna know if Cross is okay. I haven’t heard from her since this really started.”

This time Butch freely pouted. He didn’t argue, but that face told her all she needed to know.

Suddenly, there was a noise at the door. Butch and Alice shifted, hands moving to their guns as they moved to quietly hide behind crumbling pillars. It sounded like something heavy was dragging on the ground outside.

Alice tightened her grip on her pistol.

She popped her head around the pillar, just in time to see a small scribe grunting over the weight of dragging in a knight. She looked around the room quickly and clearly didn’t see Alice. She pulled the limp body around the side of the door, and then sat them down. As their head touched the ground, their face turned, and Alice could see who it was from their pillar.

She gestured at Butch, to put his gun down, and she holstered hers. He mouthed “what the fuck” at her, but she ignored him.

She stepped around the pillar, holding her hands in the air. “Hey…”

The scribe flipped around, and pulled out a laser pistol, shakily pointing it at Alice. “Don’t come closer!”

Alice paused and stood still, which gave Butch enough time to act like an idiot, of course. 

He came out from his cover, pistol raised, and yelling, “Hey, don’t point that gun at her!”

The scribe gasped and took a step back. “Hey, I’ll shoot!”

“Stop it!” Alice said to Butch, then turned to the scribe. “Look, I’m a doctor. Let me help her.”

The scribe paused, biting her lip in indecision. Butch took a moment to flick his eyes down to the knight and his eyes widened.

“Cross! What the hell happened?” He yelled at the scribe, emphasizing with his gun.

“You… know her?” The scribe said.

Alice sighed. “Yes! Is she injured? Let me look at her!”

The scribe hesitated one more second, and then let her gun up. 

Alice booked it over to Cross, trying to get a good look at her. She was breathing, alive, but if the look of her armor was any indication, she may not stay that way for long.

The power armor was blasted inwards, and had melted into her skin a bit. Her underarmor was gone. The skin itself was looking rough. Some bits looked almost liquified.

“A plasma weapon?” Alice asked, not looking over her shoulder, and instead digging through her bag for some supplies. 

The wound was a little old. Better to get plasma shots within the first few minutes if you didn’t want to get the skin grafts out. The best she could do right now and here was limit the damage. If that was what it was.

“Well? Was it a plasma weapon that shot her?” Alice asked, turning her head to the scribe.

Butch was still pointing his gun at the scribe, who was practically shivering.

“Butch! Put the damn gun down. It isn’t the time.” Alice said firmly.

“We don’t know anything about them!” He yelled.

Alice sighed, turned her head to the scribe. “Who are you? Name, gender, something to soothe his feelings.”

He made a face at Alice, but didn’t say anything.

The scribe swallowed. “I’m… I’m Chea Soth. I’m a girl. I’m 16.”

That explained why she was so shaky. “Look, Butch, you can keep pointing your gun at the 16 year old kid or you can let me do my fucking job.”

Butch rolled his eyes and put the gun away. “Fine. But if you try to hurt her, I’ll hurt you, got it, kid? I know how you people are about ghouls.”

Chea gulped and nodded.

“Okay. Plasma weapon? How long ago?” Alice asked, getting a little desperate.

Chea turned to her, but didn’t look at her directly. “It was plasma, yeah. 30 minutes ago.”

“Where was this? You dragged her here on your own?” Butch asked, tension in his voice.

Alice ignored him now, and got to work on Cross. She cut off some brunt clothes, and started treating the skin she could. There was some that was little more than a puddle, and that wasn’t gonna make it. She’d need grafts. And that wasn’t accounting for her organs, or what was left of them. Alice didn’t actually know how much of her was mechanical and how much was organic. On the one hand, she had the skills to fix either. On the other, that meant nothing if she didn’t know what she was dealing with.

Star Paladin Cross was a unique lady.

“Do you know how to put her back together?” Alice asked. Better to ask than regret.

Chea shook her head. “I’m… new. I was supposed to be on weaponry.”

“What is going on with you guys? Did the Outcasts shoot Cross or something?” Butch asked.

Chea winced. “Not… exactly.”

Alice kept to her work. It was going to be rough to pry this armor off of Cross. It looked like it was poorly maintained. Must have been why it fell apart. But very unlike her to keep it so poorly. Something had to be happening to keep her so busy she couldn’t stay on top of it. It’d have to be something big.

“You guys  _ are _ the Outcasts, aren’t you?” Alice asked.

Chea paused, and then nodded.

“ _ Cross _ is leaving the  _ Brotherhood of Steel _ ?” Butch said incredulously.

“It’s not the Brotherhood! We’re not betraying them, they’re betraying the ideals Lyons stood for. They’re the ones who brought the old Outcasts back in, and everything’s gone wrong since. They’re changing things!” Chea insisted.

“Yeah, like that’s new news.” Butch said, dismissively.

Alice suppressed the urge to give Butch a look and kept on work.

“I know it’s been bad for a while but, it’s worse now! The Brotherhood in the west decided who the new Elder was, and they chose Maxson.” Chea said.

“The little kid’s in charge?” Butch said, confused.

“He’s what, 16, now?” Alice said.

“18. He’s been in charge for a couple years now. But he’s decided that we’re changing things.” Chea said.

“Isn’t that what all of them did?” said Butch.

“He wants to clear out all super mutants and ghouls. He doesn’t want us to support the water caravans anymore, and he made an announcement that we’re gonna work on leaving.” Chea sounded almost near tears.

“Leaving?” Alice asked, almost pausing in her work.

“Yeah. He says that the Prydwen is done, and he thinks we need to work elsewhere.”

Alice shook her head. “Alright, I can’t talk about this anymore. Cross is gonna need more than my first aid kit. I need my surgery suite. And some x-rays to see what I’m working with. I’m assuming she’s just shut down for the moment, but if she boots up, she isn’t gonna like it.”

Chea looked nervous, and then looked pleadingly at Butch. “We were supposed to meet with Cross’ friends here. Could I pay you to stay here and wait for them?”

Butch laughed, and Alice couldn’t help but add a snort herself as she started packing up her first aid kit. Being that young and that earnest felt life times away, especially when she was trying to glue her friends back together.

Chea looked even more desperate. “I’ll pay double!”

“Tempting.” Butch said.

“You are not going to steal from her.” Alice said reproachfully.

“What’s going on?” Chea almost whined.

“We  _ were _ the friends Cross was trying to meet.” Alice said.

“We did say we knew her.” Butch said.

“But-” Chea cut herself off.

“Look, I know the wrinkles and lack of hair may confuse you, but Alice here has known Cross forever.” Butch said, jabbing a thumb in her direction.

“Oh. You knew Cross when she was a kid?” Chea asked.

This time Alice fully laughed. “No, the other way around. Not all ghouls are ancient you know. Maybe you’d recognize me better if I still had my afro. Or maybe the vault suit.”

Chea’s eyes widened. “You’re  _ that _ Alice?”

“I guess it is a common name.” Alice said to Butch.

“Pfft, maybe. Maybe she’s a dumb kid.”

“Be nice.” Alice reprimanded.

“Never.” Butch retorted.

Chea was looking back and forth, increasingly mortified. “You- you saved the entire Brotherhood and the Capital from the Enclave, and I  _ pointed a gun at you _ .”

“You were protecting yourself. It’s a good instinct. Although you should question why you’re more willing to point a gun at me than him.” Alice said, gesturing at Butch. “He’s more likely to hurt you. I’m not a great shot.”

Chea’s mortification increased.

“Okay, enough talking. We could try to get Charon and a cart down here to carry her. It would be easier and safer than dragging her ourselves.” Alice said in Butch’s direction.

“Think I don’t have the muscle?” Butch whined.

“Think that dragging a hunk of metal across the hills is gonna leave us wide opened to be sniped.” She retorted.

“Couldn’t we just… get her out of the armor?” Chea asked.

“No. That’s burned into her skin, and I’m gonna need to do a lot of tools to take it off without tearing her up worse.” Alice said.

Chea and Butch both winced a little at the thought.

“Also she’s got enough metal  _ inside _ to be heavy regardless.” Alice said.

“Chea, are you quick? I know you’re strong enough to drag her for 30 minutes, but can you run?” Alice asked.

“I… I can try.” She said, clearly trying to make up for her embarrassing mistakes.

“Okay. Here’s where you need to go.” Alice said, opening her pipboy up and showing the map with the orphanage highlighted. “It’s not far. Two hills over and to the East. Can you keep that in mind?”

“Y-yes.” Chea said.

Alice paused a second. “Butch, go with her.”

“What, leave you and sargeant stiff here alone?” Butch asked incredulously.

“She actually is gonna be a ‘stiff’ if we keep fucking around, Butch. We need Charon, we need a brahmin cart, and we need them now. Chea needs to get taken out of the front lines.”

“It’s dangerous for you to be alone out here-” Butch started.

“And every second you wait it gets more dangerous, right? Go.” Alice said.

Butch pouted, and she knew she was getting an earful later. 

Chea looked embarrassed again. “I can probably do it on my own.”

“And if you get lost then Cross might die. And then we’d still have to find you and make sure you didn’t die. Let’s limit casualties, huh?” Alice said, trying to keep it as Brotherhood sounding as possible.

These people preferred their military talk.

Butch sighed. “Fine. Come on, kid. We’re going fast. Don’t fall behind.”

Chea nodded at both of them.

“And idiot? Stay alive.” Butch said.

“‘Course I will, buttface.” Alice smiled.

They left, and she hunkered down next to Cross, monitoring her breathing and keeping her head on a swivel around the empty building.

Certainly was a hell of a year. That Brotherhood bullshit was gonna cause more problems for her, she could tell.


	11. Hardest Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Diaz

Diaz stood in the middle of the Railroad base, staring at the chalkboard. There were a bunch of coded notes, a diagram of some building somewhere, and someone else’s code name listed. It didn’t really have anything to do with her, and she wasn’t actually looking at it.

People ignored you staring off if it looked like you were looking at something else. If you let yourself daze out in the middle of the air, someone would get worried.

She just needed a moment to really think about what she was doing. What she had chosen. The consequences of it.

She was going to blow up the Institute. She wanted to get as many people of all kinds out as possible, but it may just be that only gen 3 synths would make it. It wasn’t clear what would happen when they really started. And it wasn’t clear what would happen to her son.

It’s hard, as a parent, to separate yourself from your child’s actions. If she had raised her son in the old world, and he had become a mass murderer, she’d probably have blamed herself. But something like this… He was stolen from her 60 years ago. He’d grown well past what she’d thought about when she’d been feeding him at two in the morning. Her furthest thoughts about his future was thinking about starting up a college savings fund.

She’d never thought about seeing him that old. And she never would have been able to imagine… this.

You don’t have a baby and think “I should teach them to not perpetuate a system of literal slavery”. Maybe she should have thought about that. Maybe she should have tried harder to get out of the freezer. Maybe if their vault had been some other experiment, she would have died years ago and her son never would have created an army made up primarily of slave labor and helped terrorize the greater Boston area.

There were too many maybes. And she needed to be realistic if she was going to do this. She… hadn’t been able to be a mother to Shaun. He had been stolen from her, and by the time he had decided to have a relationship with her, he was an adult who had decided to do really disgusting things. He wasn’t gonna listen to someone 40 years his younger, he had woken her up because he wanted to tie up all his loose ends. It wasn’t about her or her feelings, or what happened to their family. It was him trying to do something he’d always idly thought about.

She wished she’d been able to raise him to care more about others. But she didn’t have the luxury this time. She needed to think about the world. She needed to think about an entire species.

She sighed and shook her head. Not the time for being melancholy. She had only a few hours before they were making their move. They needed to move as soon as possible, because it would only be a couple weeks before her pregnancy would start showing, and if it did, there was every chance her son would try to keep her in the Institute to avoid damage to her. There’s every chance he might try to pressure her into terminating the pregnancy. She had no idea what he’d do exactly, just that he’d react. And she couldn’t imagine his reaction would factor in what she wanted.

And she needed the maneuverability she had now. Sure, she had to take anti-nausea pills whenever she hit the institute because her body saw pregnancy as an opportunity to vomit, but that was nothing compared to trying to move around the building with extra pounds she wasn’t used to and with her lungs squished up.

“You doing alright?” Deacon asked popping up next to her out of nowhere.

Well, there went her “hiding it” plan. “Yeah. Fine.”

“I know a lie when I hear one.” He said, nearly sing-songing it at her.

“Look, I’m not gonna endanger the mission. There’s just a lot of shit to think about.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna endanger anything!” Deacon lied.

“Look, I have to worry about my future kid, and I’m never gonna stop thinking about what went wrong with the first one. I am not going to let anyone continue suffering under the Institute, but forgive me for getting a little thoughtful about my son when I have to murder him.” She snapped, turning from the chalkboard finally, and grabbing her bag to check her items.

“Shit, I don’t mean to come off like that.” Deacon said, sounding genuine. “I’m just… concerned about you. Are you ready for this?”

She looked up at him angrily, and saw herself reflected in his sunglasses. She looked like shit. Huge bags under her eyes, and as green around the gills as she felt. She looked fragile. Ready to snap in half at the slightest provocation. Made sense why he’d be concerned.

She deflated. “What else could I possibly do to get ready for this? Do you have a book on “How to Deal with Killing and Betraying Your Fascist Son”? Don’t hold out on me.”

Deacon huffed a little bit. “Yeah, fresh out. Had to send my copy to Arthur Maxson’s mom.”

“...That doesn’t work, she didn’t kill him.”

“I’m trying here.” Deacon said.

“Yeah, I know.” Diaz sighed out. Her gear was ready.

“You bringing Preston?” Deacon asked, quieter.

“I can’t do it without help. This is gonna be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” She said.

Deacon was silent, and dropped down in the fold out chair next to hers.

She sighed again and dropped her head onto his shoulder. He tensed for a moment before relaxing.

“We’re gonna be here for you after, too. You’re not gonna be alone.” He said, and it might have been the most genuine thing she’d ever heard from him.


	12. A Concept You Wanted to Explore With Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Alice got to confront all the Brotherhood Bullshit herself?

Alice leaned against the wall, waiting. The hallway was empty, nondescript grey walls, broken up only by grey doors. No windows. It had held up pretty well over the years. This gave her nothing to look at, and would have driven her crazy when she was just a few years younger. Taking care of so many kids had given her patience.

But she wasn’t quite sure if that patience was gonna be enough to get her through this bullshit. It’d been plenty of years since she saw the man on the other side of the door. He hadn’t been a man at all, in fact.

And she’d been very different. Everyone was hoping that she’d be able to get through to him, but frankly, she didn’t hope for that. Someone as far gone as he was wouldn’t be easy to get through to. But she did wanna go in.

She wanted a look at him. She wanted to understand how time could make monsters, even of little boys.

The door across from her opened, and Santiago stepped out. He looked tired, drained, and like he had about thirty more things to do that week. But as far as she’d known him, that was just what his face looked like. Maybe he had had a really good conversation in there.

She doubted it, but she didn’t survive this long by not being optimistic. 

“He’s ready. Go ahead.” Santiago said, jerking his head backwards. “We’ll all be in the next room over.”

Alice nodded and swallowed. Go time.

She wasn’t quite sure what she’d see when she walked in, but adult Arthur Maxson looked… like an adult. He had a massive old scar on one cheek, and two new across his forehead almost in an “x” pattern and a fancy looking jacket. But it was clear the last few months had been rough on him. His cheeks were sunken in, and his hair looked scruffy. He was sat at an interrogation table, across from an empty chair.

There were signs of the little boy she knew, somewhere in his eyes, his nose shape. The look of shock as she entered the room was familiar. She’d seen it when the boy had first looked up at Charon.

He quickly hid it though, switching instead to a suspicious squint. “They’re gonna bring in a ghoul to manipulate me now? Interesting choice.”

“I keep getting that from you Brotherhood people. Or  _ former _ Brotherhood people. After all I’ve done.” She said, pulling some confidence out of nowhere. Maybe out of his shocked face.

Maxson was silent, no recognition on his face.

“You people  _ were _ aware I turned ghoul right? I got supplies from you for a little while afterwards.”

He was still silent.

“So is it just that you people don’t give a fuck about the Capital anymore? You push my dad to suffer for you, die for you, you throw me into Project Purity by myself, and I fight the Enclave for you, I kill them for you, I build your stupid robot, I even irradiate myself for you. And you guys are just sad I didn’t actually die.” She says, sitting down across from him at his little table.

His eyes widened. “Alice.”

She smiled. There was a pause, Maxson clearly putting pieces together in his head. He made some sort of decision, because his face slammed shut. No emotion in there, he insisted.

“Maybe they should have killed you. Your current existence is a flaw, a defect caused by the nukes. It’ll only end with you turning feral and harming others.” He said.

“Wow. See why the Brotherhood put you in charge so young. You sure know how to repeat the phrases. That hasn’t changed too much.” Alice said, smirking.

“Don’t act like I haven’t changed anything. Lyons would never have bothered with helping the Commonwealth. He was too obsessed with his passion projects out in the Capital.” Maxson said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah? Because he definitely ‘helped’ the Pitt in a way very similar to you. And what has the Brotherhood done for the Commonwealth, huh?” She said, leaning in, elbows on the table.

“We have destroyed the Institute! They have terrorized the Commonwealth with their  _ synths _ and they were even pushing them down to the Capital. I know you helped one of their infiltrators get away. Don’t think I didn’t have access to those files.” He pointed his finger at her accusingly.

Alice squinted at him. “I helped a man get away from the Institute. I suppose everything’s a threat if you’re a gun, but I try to think deeper than that.”

“What damage could that thing have done to Rivet City if we hadn’t killed it? You were letting it walk among people as a  _ guard _ . In control of people’s lives.” Maxson said, leaning back.

Alice felt herself frown. “You  _ did _ kill Harkness. I was hoping that was just an accidental casualty of your stupid little civil war. Did you raid Rivet City  _ just _ to kill him? The bullshit about Outcasts was a lie.”

Maxson scoffed. “ _ Him _ . Humanizing that thing-”

“You don’t care do you? You don’t care how many people outside the Brotherhood you kill, how many of them suffer because of you. You people created a whole infrastructure in the Capital, made everyone rely on you, and then tore it away! The people you forced to fit your changes didn’t even have you to rely on anymore!” Alice tried not to shout.

“Don’t act like a fucking hero!” Maxson had no such restraint. “You think you know what’s good for the Brotherhood? What’s good for anyone? You came in, forcing the Brotherhood to accept you, helping us, and then you leave? You had no dedication to us!”

Alice glared. “I never owed the Brotherhood anything. I was a child, raising children, looking for my father, and doing my best to help. And they asked me to move mountains that they could’ve moved if they’d put effort into it themselves.”

“19 is hardly a child. I started leading the Brotherhood at 16-” Maxson started.

“And how did that turn out for you? Well? You started a civil war, you killed civilians, you invaded another place, killed more civilians-” Alice started.

“We killed the Institute! We were successful!” Maxson interjected.

“-And then had the Brotherhood taken out from under you, because you trusted any fuck with a gun who hated enough!” Alice finished.

Maxson looked away, silent, staring at the empty wall.

“You encouraged the hate. You wanted your men to hate whatever wasn’t human enough. It was a reasonable sacrifice so you could look good in the annals of Brotherhood history, right? And now look at you.” She said, sitting back in her chair and gesturing at him. “Disgraced. Thrown out.”

“I didn’t do this to look good.” Maxson said, quiet.

“Then why? Hate everything different, encourage rage and genocide in your men? For what?”

“We needed to be unified. We needed to stop the threat of the Institute. Making their own life? The damage that could do… It could be on the level of the bombs. It was a technology no man should possess. Besides, most super mutants are deranged and violent. Most ghouls will go feral. It’s not a harm to be prepared for that.” Maxson said, looking down.

“Plenty of humans get dementia, and get violent. Plenty of humans get violent period. You know that yourself.” She said, gesturing at his forehead.

He looked at her again. “I made a mistake in trusting him. I admit that. That’s why I came here.”

“In trusting him? Not him. In trusting in human violence to always turn out your way. In trusting that no one could ever turn their hatred back on you. I’m told you killed your own men, dedicated men, for not being human. You thought that could never backfire in any way?” She said leaning in again, and trying desperately to contain her anger.

“I…” Maxson said. “I don’t need to take this from you. I’ve given them what they need to know. They can use my information to take down that asshole or kill me, or whatever they want. I don’t care.”

“You don’t care if you die, Arthur?” She said, her anger extinguished in a second. “I think you do.”

It was hard not to picture a little boy, reciting lines he’d been trained to memorize. A little boy she sat next to Bryan while at meetings. She’d come back to them planning out a whole miniature war with Bryan’s little soldier toys. A little boy she taught how to color, because his life had been so strict beforehand that he’d never had that chance.

“I… Lyons made mistakes. We wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. But I don’t want the Brotherhood to change so much they’re…” Maxson looked almost small as he said it.

“The Brotherhood’s obsession with control has always been a problem. But it’s been a problem you kept to yourself. And then Lyons decided to get involved, but at least his goals went beyond blowing things up.” She said, feeling older than 29 suddenly.

Maxson was silent, turning from the wall, and then looking at his hands sitting in his lap. “Sometimes you need an explosion.”

“Yeah. But I don’t think your choice of times was a good one. Or your choice of friends.” She said, starting to stand.

“What did they send you in for?” Maxson asked, the quietness not leaving his voice.

“I asked.” Alice said, walking towards the door but pausing before she opened it. “I still remember little Arthur. You’re not him anymore, I know. But I hope whoever you are next? I hope he’s better than this.”

She left the room, feeling exhaustion weigh her down. She needed a fucking break.


	13. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Caiside

Caiside was not ready for this. She barely knew what she was doing. She just wanted to find her son and she’d walked into a warzone. She didn’t even have time to react to all the murder before she was asked to hop into some power armor and level a mini-gun at some random attackers.

Her husband had jokingly (and illegally) let her hop into his power armor once. It had felt too heavy, and yet lighter than you’d expect, at the same time.

And here she was, needing it to save some strangers she’d never met. She hopped in, and levelled a minigun at hordes of the attackers from the roof, and they were dead in seconds. She almost felt sick, but she pushed it away to focus.

When it looked mostly empty, the man in the cowboy hat yelled at her. “Get down there and check for others!”

“Jump down?” She said, concerned.

“It’s power armor, you won’t get hurt! Please!” he asked, turning back to his rifle and scanning the ruins of the town.

“R-right.” She gulped. She knew that. “Down we go.”

She took a step off the roof, and her stomach leaped into her throat as she hurtled to the ground.

She stumbled as she cracked the pavement, but it didn’t hurt. She was just unbalanced from the weight of the armor. Within seconds some other marauders bullets started pinging off the right side of her armor, and she did her best to lift the minigun into place. The guy who shot her turned to a fine red mist, and she tried to ignore the panic that started burning in her throat.

She fixed her stance, wider to account for the gun, and then she heard it. A loud slam, coming from up the street. She heard some human voices in that direction start yelling, as something slammed into a sewer grate from below, a second time. The grate wiggled.

Caiside swallowed, trying to will her heart to calm down. And then the thing slammed into the grate the final time, sending it, and the car above it hurtling into the air.

What the fuck was that?

Out of the sewer climbed a large  _ crocodile _ ? A  _ lizard _ ? Fucking something, that was huge and had a tail, claws, and horns. One of the attackers turned the corner from the house they’d been hiding in, and ran down the road in Caiside’s direction instead of being anywhere near the  _ thing _ that came hurtling down the street after it. The man with the hat yelled at her from the balcony, but she didn’t understand him.

Caiside was no idiot though, and she ignored the attacker, levelling her gun at the thing. It didn’t turn into a fine red mist. It barely seemed to register her bullets. She gulped and stepped back, but knew she had little room to move before the Museum was behind her.

The thing ignored her bullets and turned to the attacker in front of her,  _ lifting _ them off the ground with ease. They screamed and kicked, but were helpless as the thing simply brought their head up to it’s giant mouth, and ripped their head off.

Caiside felt a scream bubbling up in her. She didn’t even have a full set of armor!

The thing turned to her and yelled. The force of it actually physically hit her, and set her off kilter a bit.

“Run!” The man on the balcony yelled, as he fired at the thing. It was unphased and turned towards her.

She decided to listen and turned, going as fast as she could in the armor. She slammed into some sandbags the marauders had set up, turning them to dust.

She could hear and  _ feel  _ the thing chasing her, the ground shaking as it moved. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream or vomit or something.  _ What the fuck was that thing? _ It was getting closer every moment.

And then she realized that it  _ was _ going to catch her. She was too slow in the armor. It was going to grab her, and even if the armor held up to it, her unarmed arm and leg wouldn’t. She had to shoot it, it was her only chance.

She flipped around and fired as quickly as possible, seeing the creature's huge body and bloody mouth  _ much _ closer than she’d hoped. She hit it a few times, and the bullets did sink in, even if it didn’t seem to bother it that much. She kept firing. It got closer.

She finally let herself scream as one of its massive hands reached over and grasped around her shoulder, raising her into the air. She almost dropped the minigun. The man on the balcony shot it again, and it was still unphased.

Time slowed for her as it raised her close to its mouth, and she saw it crushing the marauders head on replay behind her eyes. She fumbled with the minigun, and did her best to angle it properly and pointed it straight at the thing’s head. It roared, and she pulled the trigger. 

Its head exploded, chunks flying everywhere, covering her helmet in blood. Its whole body went slack, dropping her to the ground with it. She made a loud  _ clang _ as she hit the ground. Distantly she heard the man with the hat cheering.

She tried to breathe out, but the helmet felt too tight around her. She felt like she was suffocating. Her helmet was so coated in the brains of whatever that thing was that she couldn’t see. Desperately, she tore the helmet off, and breathed in clear air. It stunk of blood and the sewer, and the smell of the thing she killed, but there was air.

“Fuck.” She said, as the adrenaline started to leave her body. She started to shake, but the power armor held her in place.

“Meet me inside!” The man yelled from the balcony, before turning back around.

Caiside breathed out, watching him and idly trying to remember what his name was. He’d told it to her, right? She couldn’t remember.

Well. The future certainly wasn’t easy, she thought, staring at the huge corpse of the monster next to her.


End file.
